Talent
by delcatty546
Summary: "Full respect. That is your talent. You are a genius."


**And the time has come for me to actually write a Kuroshitsuji fic! :D So far this is the only Herman/Edward fic but I love the pairing so much especially after chapter 77! X3 Thank you Yana Toboso for making me love Edward even more!**

_**Talent**_

The first thing Herman noticed about Edward was his penchant for observing people. He had been ambling about the campus, his fag by his side, merely watching his dormitory's people. It was break time and Green Lion students were either practising their respective sports or working hard on their homework.

All except that blonde, sitting in the corner, observing people as he himself was. Intrigued, he turned to his fag.

"Whitlock, who is that student over that?" Immediately, his fag saluted him before speaking.

"Greenhill, that would be first-year student Edward Midford," he replied, having memorised the names of every student in Green Lion. At times like these, Herman would find himself questioning why Whitlock had not been placed in Sapphire Owl for his photographic memory. Whatever the case, the principal's decisions were absolute.

"Hasn't Midford got anything to be doing now? Training or homework? Or has he no idea how to prioritise?" he asked clucking his tongue in disapproval. Ignoring Whitlock's protests, Herman made his way across the lawn to where Edward sat.

"Midford!" he barked.

Startled, Edward leapt to his feet, raising his arm in salute. "Greenhill!" Eyes lowered to the ground, he stood still as Herman raked his eyes over him, feeling just a tad uncomfortable under the prefect's scrutiny.

"Have you already completed your assignments for today?" asked Herman, rubbing his hand over his chin. Edward mumbled something in response. "Speak up Midford! I can't hear you!"

Flinching, Edward straightened up. "Yes Greenhill! I've completed all of today's assignments!"

"And what of your training? You are a cricket player, fencer and swordsman correct?" demanded the prefect. "Are you not idling away precious training time?"

"With all due respect sir, I am training now." At this, Herman raised a dark eyebrow. "I was observing Seymour and Hayward's fencing and trying to learn from them." Edward gestured to where the third-year students stood, now curiously eyeing their prefect.

Suddenly, the corners of Herman's mouth curved just a little, imperceptible to all but Whitlock and Edward.

"Show me what you've learnt then."

The Green Lion students in the area drew close around the two swordsmen. As soon as Seymour and Hayward had heard the challenge in Herman's words, they hurried over to offer their blades to him.

"Greenhill! Please, feel free to use our sabres!" offered Seymour. Nodding once in their direction, Herman received the sabres with two hands and tossed one over to Edward.

He noted that Edward reached up to catch it easily, despite not expecting the toss. The pair saluted each other with the sabres.

"Well then Midford… _En garde!"_

Edward did not last long, not against a master like Herman. By the end of the match, he was panting heavily. Still, admiration for the prefect shone in his eyes. Nonetheless, what had impressed Herman was how Edward had indeed picked up on Seymour and Hayward's fencing styles. Having faced off against both boys before, Herman could safely say that Edward had nearly perfected their signature styles.

All around, the Green Lion students were in awe. To have lasted five minutes against Greenhill was a major accomplishment for any first-year. More buzz centred on how Edward had pulled off the seniors' trademark moves.

"Not bad Midford, not bad at all."

Much to his surprise, Edward found himself being invited to the Swan Gazebo. Whitlock had barked at him to show up at two on the dot after Herman had a talk with the rest of the prefects.

Having inherited his mother's habit of showing up early, Edward had managed to pick up strains of the P4's conversation as he arrived five minutes before two.

"I do hope he is as interesting as you make him sound Greenhill," drawled the cloaked prefect who Edward recognised as Violet.

"I'm sure you'll all find him rather interesting. Like I said, he was able to use Seymour and Hayward's signature moves after merely observing them." Edward flushed as he detected a tinge of pride in Greenhill's voice.

"Well, let us not keep the young lord waiting. Midford, would you please show yourself?" Edward nearly jumped out of his skin as Redmond stared in his direction. Shakily he removed himself from the corner of the wall he had been hiding behind.

"You're early," commented Bluer as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "A nobleman is always on time for appointments, if not early. Well done Midford, take a seat."

As Edward sank onto the plush sofa, he felt eight pairs of eyes on him. The pressure of them was so high that Edward found himself subconsciously straightening his back and fidgeting with his blazer. Redmond offered him a lazy smile.

"Relax Midford. We just want to talk to you, figure out what makes you tick." Still feeling uncomfortable, Edward unconsciously sought Herman's gaze. It was only after Herman nodded ever so slightly that Edward relaxed somewhat.

From where he was leaning against a pillar, Herman asked the first question. "Midford, for someone as young as yourself, you managed to last much longer than most in a fencing match with me. Would you care to tell us how you did it?"

"I-"

"Speak up Midford!" boomed Greenhill. Although Edward's ears were ringing, none of the other prefects or their fags seemed fazed. It seemed that was how loud Greenhill normally spoke.

"My little sister is a fencing genius. I always train with her." At this, Whitlock raised his eyebrows.

"Greenhill, may I ask him a question?"

"You have my permission."

"Midford, by any chance, is your sister _Elizabeth _Midford?" Edward's ears pricked up as he narrowed his eyes.

"What do you know of my sister Whitlock?" By now, all ears were listening to them.

"Is she not the national fencing champion in the youth category? She wiped the floor with me in the tournament."

"Yes. That is her. I am not ashamed of learning from her. She is a genius after all. By learning from her, I am bringing myself closer to her standard."

The Gazebo was silent as the prefects drank in the information. Then, Herman put down the weights he had been lifting and walked over to Edward, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, leaving Whitlock flabbergasted as he uttered his next words.

"I like your attitude Midford. From now on, I'd like to personally oversee your training."

Weeks went by and so did the rumours of the first-year Herman was personally training. Rumour had gotten around that Herman had taken a shine to the first-year who really, had no outstanding qualities at all.

Gradually, Edward had gotten used to some of the hostile vibes from his dorm mates. Their jealousy was unavoidable but he learnt to cope with it. Fencing was not the only thing Herman was coaching him in either. The prefect had decided that Edward could do well in many other sports, so he pushed him.

At five thirty in the morning, Edward would rise, a full hour earlier than expected. Up until seven for their early morning tea, he would be practising his fencing with Herman.

During fag time, Edward would spend two hours helping Whitlock who he had eventually requested him as his fag. The other two hours were spent playing tennis with Greenhill, Whitlock and a Green Lion student he knew as Godwin.

Five in the evening was cricket for all the dorms. Mostly, Edward would be watching the more senior Green Lion students practise for about an hour before he tried to apply their tactics.

Gradually, he won respect from them, especially after he managed to perfect Godwin's "Emerald Lightning" throw. The whole dorm had erupted into cheers for the boy.

"You can be our secret weapon during the fourth of July tournaments!" cheered Godwin as he shook his hand vigorously.

As Herman walked towards him, the crowd parted like the red sea, giving the prefect room to walk. With a smile, Herman slapped Edward on the back and ruffled his hair.

"Well done Midford, well done indeed."

A year later, Whitlock approached Herman, his face sombre. "Greenhill, may I have permission to speak?" Herman nodded carefully, noting that his fag is a lot thinner.

"I-I'm not so well Greenhill. My physician says that I need to-" he gulped painfully and the crease between Herman's dark eyebrows deepened. "I need to stop sporting-" he finally choked out between coughs. Herman patted his back as the coughing subsided.

"I understand Whitlock. However, would you still want to stay in Green Lion? We can find you less strenuous tasks but I'm afraid you'll have to resign as my fag. Perhaps I've been overworking you."

"Please Greenhill, if the principal will allow it, I'd like to stay in Green Lion. I'd like to be able to mentor your new fag." Whitlock cast his gaze downwards. "I still want to be of help."

Herman could not help but let his features soften. A Green Lion student was not only good at sports. He was also dutiful, responsible and loyal to the bone.

"Rest assured, I am sure the principal will not mind you staying in Green Lion. It is already your fourth year here and by far, too late to change dorms." The sickly boy cracked a hopeful grin as he tried to straighten up. Despite the brotherly affection he felt for Whitlock, Herman did not want him to get his hopes up, only to have them crushed.

"Just keep in mind that no matter what, the principal's decision is absolute."

Herman did not need to think long at all over Whitlock's replacement. The moment he suggested Whitlock, his ever faithful fag, retire, he had felt a sense of loss. Whitlock had been his fag for his whole four years in Weston. Even when Herman had been promoted to prefect, he had kept Whitlock as his fag.

However, a tiny part also felt guilty for already having a replacement in mind immediately. He knew at that moment that Edward would be his new fag. Sure, there would be some confusion as to why a first year would become a prefect's fag but the dorm had come to accept Edward, even cherish him somewhat.

It was the kind of brotherly love Weston aimed for. Edward, having been much smaller in size than most boys his age, was treated like a dear little brother by all the seniors and even his fellow first years. Of course, they respected him for his unique talent as well, Even if Edward himself did not really acknowledge it as a talent.

Edward liked to protest that copying others was not a talent and often times, Herman would find himself pressed to name that talent of his. He had to admit that being a copier did not sound like a talent at all, rather it seemed to imply that Edward was a wannabe.

It was only after the first fourth of July tournament Edward participated in that Herman found he could name this talent.

Edward had been on the bench for the most part of the game, observing the final match between Scarlet Fox and Green Lion. When Redmond stepped up to bat, unleashing his Crimson Tornado, Herman was carefully watching if Edward was taking it in.

Too his surprise, he realised that Edward's eyes were brimming with respect for the Scarlet Fox prefect. His eyes were absorbing in every tiny motion and Herman found himself grinning as the teams switched over.

The match was ending and it was finally time to unleash their secret weapon. Scarlet Fox students had jeered and mocked the first year as he stepped up to bat but the Green Lion students were cheering far louder.

As Ashmore, one of Scarlet Fox's prized bowlers unleashed a deliberate slow ball, Edward took a familiar stance that had the rest of the Scarlet Fox team gasping. In one swift motion, he spun, connecting the ball with the bat, sending it flying.

From his place, Herman smirked.

"Full respect. That is your talent."

**I just realised that every time I went on to a new segment, it ended with Herman saying something XD Notice how Herman is one letter away from German? I actually prefer calling him Greenhill XD**


End file.
